Is Art Wrong?
It doesn’t feel right.
Are artists fond of the term “interrogate”
because they know it’s torture?
I just read “preparator” as “perpetrator.”
“Paint” as “pain.”
“Curator” as “carceral.”
Think about it:
I mean, is Capitalism Art’s friend, enemy, or frenemy?
Do Art and Capitalism occasionally meet up for drinks,
or do they wake up everyday and grab coffee?
Do Art and Capitalism co-care a dog?
Who gets it in a split?
Marry, Fuck, Kill: Capitalism.
Marry, Fuck, Kill: Art.
Kill, but after fucking.
Or maybe marry first, just
for the gifts; to say “I do,” then “I did.”
And the honeymoon, I know,
is the only way I’d ever get to go
to Basel, or Reykjavik, or Tokyo.